Page 71 of Eternal Sacrifice
“They’re not my moms,” I breathed.
My father chose not to comment, but I felt a simmering rage bubbling beneath his skin. He continued down the hallway, passing door after door. They were all painted the same color: red. It was a bright shade, like a freshly picked cherry in candlelight. It made my head hurt just to look at it. My father stopped outside one of the doors. It looked the same as the others.
“Let me see if she’s up to visitors,” he said, his palm resting on the handle.
“I’m not a visitor, Mammon.”
My father cringed at the sound of his name rolling from my lips rather than the title of father or sin. It lit a fire inside him, turning the simmering rage into a rolling boil. His hand came off the doorknob, and my father looked past me.
“I’ll wait out here with them,” Jasper said when I turned to see what my father was looking at.
I nodded, thankful I still had part of my pack to back me.
I took a step forward, grabbed the handle, and filled my lungs with air before releasing it slowly. Nervous jitters ran through me, no matter how hard I tried to shove them back into their mental rooms. I hadn’t seen my mom in far too long.
The door creaked open like the hinges were not accustomed to the movement. Liberty sat in a chair in the middle of the cream-colored room, and I closed the door behind me and placed a bubble of privacy so my father couldn’t eavesdrop.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, feeling nervous when she didn’t even notice someone had entered the room.
Her swirling green eyes slid up from the worn pages of the book held between her hands. She wore a flowing white dress that matched the color of her wavy hair. She looked out from a face full of innocence, but I saw her eyes widen before flitting back to the door.
I couldn’t help myself, shuffling forward to fall to my knees on the rug at her feet. My arms reached out to wrap around her tiny waist as I laid my head on her thighs while tears threatened to fall. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, sweet boy.” Her tone was soft, and I felt her fingers in my hair like she used to do when I was a young demon.
I sat up to look at her, and her arms fell limply to her side.
“I need your help,” I breathed, grabbing her hands to warm them with my skin.
She was always so fucking cold. Even when I was young, she felt like living porcelain.
There seemed to be clarity in her gaze, but it continued to shift toward the door.
“I’m a King of Hell now, Mom,” I said, not knowing if my father had even told her that Lucifer had died.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, sweet boy.” Her voice came out like a whisper on the breeze, and her eyes slowly tracked back to my face.
“He can’t hear you,” I whispered, and her eyes widened fractionally. “Jax is dead.”
Liberty’s mouth sprang open, and I heard a slight gasp.
“You met my fox,” I continued.
She nodded, and I breathed easier, knowing she had at least remembered the encounter.
“I need help keeping her mind intact while we try to get Jax back.”
Her eyes returned to the door before swinging back my way as if she was watching a game of table tennis.
“My sweet, sweet boy.” She smiled, a sad expression on her face. She blinked, her lids moving slowly to a close, paused, and opened again.
The room filled with emotion, sorrow, and fear streaming from her in waves, but I didn’t know what it meant.
“Please, Mom. I don’t know what to do. Every time we try something, things keep getting worse.” I reached my arms around her, hugging her tightly.
“Do not trust,” she breathed into my ear.
“Who? Who shouldn’t I trust?”
